Associated Press
Dr. Ron Hofman and his wife Heidi pray before dinner near Jojo Mitchell, 22, inside their Grand Rapids home. The Hofmans have been volunteering their time to mentor young African American men for about 30 years.

Gathered before an early Christmas dinner, Ron Hofman took a minute to brag about the six young men who made themselves comfortable in his Southeast Side home.

Two were football stars at Grand Rapids Christian High School, and another is studying at Grand Valley State University, he explained. Yet another had unbelievable gymnastics skills when he was a “little dude.”

Listening as these men interacted, it was difficult to believe that only one of the 20-somethings in the room is his biological son.

Hofman, 58, is white, and most of the young men he mentors are black.

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Through different avenues, the Grand Rapids pediatrician has opened his home to disadvantaged youth since he was in his 20s. He and his wife, Heidi, have four adult children.

The young people he has mentored have brought with them their share of triumph and heartache. Yet through it all, the couple consider themselves blessed to have a second family.

Kids from the community have joined for holiday celebrations and Sunday dinners. They’ve competed over video games in the family’s basement and tagged along on family vacations.

Years back, there was no hesitation when the Hofmans’ children asked if Omar Brown, now 18, could join the family’s spring break to Florida. Brown’s single mother didn’t have to worry about paying for the trip. Hofman just has an “overwhelming desire” to help people, Brown said.

“It’s a sense of hospitality. If you’re going to build relationships, you open your home,” Hofman said.

The seed for Hofman’s work in racial reconciliation was planted when he was young.

His father was a pastor, and the family’s move from Canada to Los Angeles in 1960s presented its first grapple with racial issues during the Watts Riots. His mother, Cobi Hofman, said families of all cultures were welcome in their home. Her son befriended kids of different ethnicities in the neighborhood.

“I feel sorry for parents who don’t give their children that opportunity. We didn’t look for it, it came our way,” she said.

And it stuck with Hofman.

He and Heidi, whose father also was a pastor, both received their undergraduate degrees from Calvin College. They rooted in Grand Rapids after Hofman graduated from the University of Michigan’s medical school because they saw a need in the city. From their first few dates, young people were invited into their lives.

The couple joined Neland Avenue Christian Reformed Church for its focus on urban outreach. Ron is a longtime leader in the cadet program there and Heidi is a leader of gems - youth programs for boys and girls that meet weekly and involve kids from the third to eighth grade.

Hofman believes talk about social justice issues is OK, but it takes getting involved in people’s lives to make a difference.

One of the Neland kids, Javon “Jojo” Mitchell, 22, lived with the family for a year after a stint in jail. He met Hofman when he was just 6, and it became routine for him and his brother, DeVontae, now 23, to join other kids from church at the home for Sunday dinners.

Jojo Mitchell’s mother was temporarily absent when he got older, and he mixed with the wrong crowd, he said. At 17, he was convicted of possession of marijuana. Ron and Heidi visited him in jail and said if he stayed out of trouble, he could live with them when he was released.

“I was shocked. I thought he would be, like, mad at me, but he came and visited me,” Mitchell recalled of their jailhouse conversation. “He’s like a father to me, to be honest.”

That was a turnaround experience, Mitchell said. Hofman believed Mitchell could change. He saw something in the teenager and pushed him to develop a work ethic. Without that guidance, Mitchell guesses he’d still be in jail. Back living with his mother now, Mitchell works with the young men’s group at Neland church. He’s preparing to start community college this semester.

“He’s coming around and that makes me feel like a million bucks,” Hofman said.

Hofman has visited quite of a few of his former mentees in jail. At one time, there were three behind bars at once. Sometimes the couple only hears from the guys when they need help, and unfortunately, they all don’t keep in touch like Mitchell. That can be discouraging, Heidi said.

“On the other hand, if that’s the lifeline they need, so be it. We’re here when they need us,” she added.

Others have come back after 20 years to say thank you. It’s good to know they’re OK. And it’s heartening to see them pay it forward and be a role model for others, Hofman said.

“If you take the opportunity to make somebody else’s life a little bit better, it always comes back,” he said.

Scott Weekley, the principal at Lighthouse Charter Academy, still looks to Hofman for approval. He was one of Hofman’s first mentees in the 1970s at Camp Tall Turf, a West Michigan faith-based camp for urban youth where Hofman worked as a counselor during college. The program encouraged counselors to maintain contact with campers during winter months, so Hofman arranged for the group, including Weekley, to join his original cadet group through Neland.

Hofman built trust in kids. Weekley passes that on to at-risk youth.

“Once that trust was built, the bridge was built. He definitely had a huge part of that. That’s something that I continue to do,” Weekley said.

Hofman teaches with a soft heart but a hard hand, and he holds people accountable, Weekley said. He’s forthright with young men when discussing the struggles they’re up against.

One of his biggest frustrations is sexual promiscuity among young people. He sees teens from church and in his pediatric practice who have fathered a child at 16. Many of them have had absent dads, he said.

“I ask them, I say, ‘Guys, look, if you were a young guy entering the world would you want a 16-year-old father or a 26-year-old father?”’ Hofman said. “I have that discussion all the time.”

Young men tell him no one’s ever talked to them that way. Hofman’s honest when he thinks they’ve made a poor decision.

That’s all out of love.

“I see the value in every one of those kids. I have high expectations. Every one of those lives is invaluable,” Hofman said.

Mitchell summed up Hofman’s mission, saying “he likes young black men to succeed.” Omar Brown said Hofman “just gets it” that to lead a fulfilling life, people have to be brothers with one another.

The couple admits that love doesn’t conquer all. Some kids are too scarred by their past, and that can be hard to shake.

Hofman reflects on the man he thought was going to be an “all-star,” but was arrested for armed robbery. He wishes he’d tried harder with another man who stopped calling after he was arrested for sexual assault.

Hofman practices at Alger Pediatrics. Alger’s volunteerism with Baxter’s Wholistic Health Clinic, through the Baxter Community Center, was a draw. For 28 years, Hofman has volunteered one day a week at the community center clinic. It’s a valued opportunity to practice inner-city medicine with families who lack insurance or receive Medicaid or Medicare.

Making his rounds at Baxter on a recent afternoon, he stopped to hug a third-generation patient. Usually he only has a few hours and there are a lot of people to be seen, so he’s efficient. Yet, he takes the time to ask about patients’ family members.

Hofman checked out Brittney Quinn’s newborn boy. Quinn was his patient “once upon a time,” he said with a smile.

“He knows everything about me, my grandmother, everything,” she said.

Hofman advocates for the best medical care for all families, regardless of their financial situation, said Melanie Beelen, director of Baxter Community Center.

“Ron always had in his heart ... that he would make sure people who are underserved got the best care. They didn’t get the leftovers,” Beelen said.

Three of the four Hofman children have worked as counselors at Camp Tall Turf. That’s kind of a family legacy, said Hofman’s son, Scott, 24.

He laughed that their home was a “shared space” growing up. He forged sibling-like bonds with the men who stayed with the family as kids.

“It was not just one person reaching out to another. It’s growing sympathetic toward each other,” Scott Hofman said. “I got people who I consider friends.”

Quentin Patterson, 20, is among those friends. He grew up in an abusive home and credits Hofman for removing him from the situation. He spent weekends with the family until he was adopted at age 8.

“In a lot of ways I owe him a lot. They kind of molded me in certain ways to wanting to be like him,” he said.

And that’s a successful person and a good Christian, Patterson said.

As a young man in his 20s, Hofman didn’t imagine he’d touch so many lives. He said he has had a great partner, Heidi, to do that with. For them, it’s been about looking for doors of opportunity to reach out to others.

What’s behind those doors has been amazing.

“I think in the long haul when a bunch of young guys can look to an old guy and say he made a difference, that’s pretty special.”